There was something in the morning sky. Grey clouds had covered the sun in a omen that no one could understand. Mist had began to roll over the mountains that seemed to be magical if not ancient. They say that the lands belonged to them. Others choose to believe that the land did not belong to them. Two rider's set out for today's patrols on the border's of the mountains where their fortress had stood strong for centuries. Hidden from view, but many armies had once tried to penetrate it. Hoods the shape of beaks shadowed their faces, but one could make out strong features and tan skin. They wore light armor with swords and knives on their persons. Their horses were sleek made for the terrain of the area. One rode a white horse with grey spots and the other rode a horse that was brown. One of the rider's had set out before his partner when he saw something (or in this case someone) lying still on his side.
"Is he alive?" The second rider had asked in an Arabic tongue. The rider on the grey horse looked behind him to his comrade.
"Let us find out for ourselves." He said not sure of himself. From the distance they were at it was hard to figure out if the figure was breathing. Exposed flesh could be deceiving to the untrained eye. It could lead to trickery when someone was dead or alive.
Pulling the reigns on his horse the animal neighed as it's rider placed his own two feet on the ground. The animal snorted while backing away slightly from it's rider. The other had done the same with his horse standing still. His horse flicked it's tail against it's strong legs. The scene was strange for both men who had took precaution for they did not know if this was some trick. War had made more enemies than friend. Each side of the battlefield was after the hooded men and those like them. Stories had ventured from different tongues throughout the Holy lands to the lands of the French and English. The king of Christian heretics had heard of these hooded men all the way down to Saladin. A hand was placed on the hilt of a sword and eyes observed the surrounding area.
No sign of danger. In this early light only animals stirred. Still, both men were not going to take chances. They have been trained to keep vigilance on their surroundings. Years of training by their ancient order made these men and those like them a dangerous enemy. Silent like the foxes but sharp like hawks. It was not the weapons they carried in broad daylight, it was what they hid that made them dangerous. Feet were stalking slowly towards the figure when the foreigner began to stir as if awakening from his slumber. The man moaned in pain feeling the dirt against his exposed skin.
'Something is not right!' The man had opened his eyes causing the two hooded men to draw out their swords and the horses stomped their hooves against the ground. One flick of the wrist would expose their hidden weapon. The man's body was shaking trying to understand what was happening around him. Frantic eyes looked back and forth with two swords pointing in his direction.
"Tie him down! He could be dangerous!" The man shouted to the other in their native tongue.
"Dangerous? He is naked!" The other retorted not taking his eyes off the foreigner.
David's breathing was becoming heavy not knowing what the two were speaking about. With the body language it was easy to assume that they were talking about him. Looking down to his person David's eyes widened with realization.
He was naked!
Trying to cover his shame one of the men walked forwards with his sword placed on David's neck. He dared not move for fear that the sharp weapon would pierce through skin. David was confused as where the two men who could not understand why or where he had come from. Better yet, why he was naked and lying on the ground? Dark eyes focused on something on the foreigner's exposed flesh. A strange marking of ink on his left shoulder. The two hooded figures have never seen something like it, but the symbol they have seen before on the Christian's. Not particularly on their skin. It had to do with their faith of their Lord that the symbol had been placed on shields, necklaces, and in their churches.
Curiosity had taken over rather than fear of the naked man. The two hooded men were not accustomed with such a thing nor was David so used to seeing their garment's. Bending to one knee, with sword still near the neck, a hand outstretched to touch the skin. Rough calloused fingers seemed to trace David's tattoo indicating that these men never seen such. It made David wonder rather than act out of fear. If he would have moved or try to attack than nothing would be gained. These men were not modern era soldier's. In fact, these men were not soldier's at all from the looks of it. Modern day weapons did not consist of blades and swords (unless as a last resort). Horses were no longer used unless these men were farmer's or ranchers (again unless as a last resort).
"Where am I?" David asked slowly moving his shoulder out of the man's reach.
The man holding his sword to David's neck looked to him with confusion. The strange language that had come out of quivering lips- never has the two hooded men heard such a thing.
"What did he say?" The other asked.
"I do not know. He speaks a different tongue like those crusaders. It is best we take him to the master. He may know what to do and how to communicate with this foreigner." Standing back to his full height, the man kept his eye's on David. The other hooded figure seemed to oblige as he walked backwards towards his horse. His hand still grasping his sword, his free hand began searching for his back where he pulled out a blanket.
Once he had the object, David kept still when he saw the blanket being thrown to him. These men could not communicate in a common tongue. In what place he found himself, David could already see the problem that was going to be a true obstacle: language.
They traveled for hours with the sun high above the mountains. David holding tight to the blanket over his shoulder's. Shivering lightly with eyes scanning the high mountains with an eagle soaring above them like some animal guide of old. The cool morning air was crisp and clean without the smell of pollution. Even the grass was greener, yet David still could not comprehend how or why he was here in such a strange land. There was nothing modern about this place. All seemed to be stuck in a world before the time of machinery and all things modern. The conclusion that David could muster was that somehow he had traveled backwards in time. How? David was not a man of science rather he was a man of action. Years of training told him to stay calm and adjust. Focus on the surroundings and figure out a way to escape.
It seemed useless. Logic was reason to David. There was no possible way that he could have been transported back in time. He could be in a coma or he died in Afghanistan, but nothing made sense. A mental breakdown! Of coarse, it made the most sense. No, it did not. The pain he felt was real. The figure were real in his eyes. The chill was real. He sighed looking to the man he was riding with. This was not possible. Time travel was not real!
He focused on the mountains to ease his troubled mind. Maybe he had to come to the possibilities that God hated him. A mental breakdown from the stress at adjusting to life. The war. He needed to calm himself or else he would have the flashbacks.
With such a scenery like the fresh clean air all had to come to a stop when large wooden gates appeared. With the horses secured at their stables outside the gates, the two hooded men pulled at David to walk forwards with the blanket secured tightly around his person. Both of the men had not spoken one word of English. Back and forth they spoke in their Arabic tongue with eyes glancing back at their captive. They were just as lost not knowing how they were going to speak to David other than communicate through the use of their body and hands.
All around him, eyes had flocked to the two hooded men and their captive. Finger's pointed, women looked away from the man who only had a blanket over him, and much of the men wore similar hoods. They kept walking up hills not giving much of the villager's a chance to continue their stares. All around him hooded men walked at a much slower pace with finger's twitching. Something had glinted in the morning rays of one of the men who quickly retracted the strange glint into his sleeve. Braces of leather on each man's arm with a symbol David has never seen.
Up a hill where the villager's had ceased and only men with weapons of swords, daggers, knives, and braces, wore hood's of the same fashion and stood back letting David's captor's through. Through an archway they had stopped just above a set of beautiful stairs. The fortress was a perfection of clever hands that had built the place. Stone placed in expert places to make sure the fortress does not fall or crumble on itself. David could not help but feel amazed at such beauty that even the pyramids in Egypt could not compare. This is no dream. David had told himself time and time again.
"Where is the master?!" The man to David's right shouted. His echo vibrated off the walls ceasing all activity to stare at the returning men.
"He is coming down from his library. The master had made sure that Altair, Malik, and Kadar were of knowledge of their mission." Retorted a rather unamused man with arms folded across his chest.
David's two captors looked to each other knowing something he did not.
"Abbas, do not let petty things get the better of you. Surely the master had his reason's to not let you go. Maybe you can gain his favor by taking this foreigner to him yourself or would you rather loathe in your misery like a pup." The man (Abbas) had sneered at the two men with distaste. Abbas may have been the name in which David quickly learned out of the Arabic speech. The only name that made sense in his English speaking mind.
"You speak to me with such a tongue, whelp? Your duties were to be lookouts at the border's." Abbas walked towards the three man and spoke something once again in Arabic. David's two captor's snickered at what seemed to be their superior before Abbas kicked one of them down. His foot making contact with a knee. Drawing his sword in a show of strength, one of the men backed away slowly with wide eyes. They knew that this man was a danger and since he was of higher rank then most, Abbas was to strike when a voice from above the stairs ceased his yearning for bloodshed.
"Hold your blade, Abbas. Striking with your sword would not put you in favor with the others. Would you rather face death or walk away from a crime that you do not want to commit?"
David gulped down spit and let out a breath when the hooded men lowered their gazes with the bow of their heads. Abbas quickly turned himself around. Dropping his sword to the ground he too lowered his gaze and bowed his head. Not knowing what to do in such a display, David looked to the figure in black with a beard growing down to his chest.
"What brings you two back from your patrols?" The older man spoke with authority in his voice.
"Forgive us master. Makin and myself were but a few miles out when we noticed this foreigner lying on the ground naked and unconscious." The man said not looking to his superior.
The older man walked down the stairs with his eyes locked on David's shaking form. Hooded men in his path moved back without looking up. When the man had stopped in-front of David, older eyes looked to him. The superior man could see a mixture of many features. A nose that looked Roman, but the foreigner had sun kissed skin. He was rather tall with hair the color of night: black. Cut short in a fashion not familiar in this region. Clean shaven with features strong in his jaw line and his neck rather 'fat' like some brute. This man was mixed like some mutt.
"Who are you?" The superior man spoke.
David kept his mouth closed. Again the superior spoke but David was not sure what he was saying.
"He does not speak our language master." Makin spoke keeping his eyes lowered.
The superior seemed to consider the options when he again spoke to David. Nothing came out clear for him to understand. Instead, the superior had raised his hands knowing that the language barrier had to be taken down by the use of the body and hands.
"Al Mualim." He said slowly for David to grasp.
Al Mualim then pointed to David with an aging finger. "David."
It was only than could David look closely at these men. Each had something mission. Each had missing ring finger's.
'Where am I?'
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